Give 'em hell
by Maetja
Summary: "Hey, you give 'em hell for me, okay? Show those military androids who's boss."


**Inspired by: http :/super- cute. deviant /art/Give-e m-hell- 2094187 23 (remove spaces)**

**That animation was just** **so **_**cute **_**that I couldn't resist.  
>Warning: contains android!turrets. If you don't like humanoid things, that's fine, just go read something else. Thank you. <strong>

**Portal belongs to Valve, not me.**

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><p>Everyone knew how things went when you were built.<p>

Certain things were programmed into every turret, knowledge they were fully aware of once their assembly was complete, and often before that, as well.

Simple things, things that everyone needed to know but no one felt like explaining. Like their purpose-shoot anything that moves, and occasionally things that don't. Don't move, ever. Stand in line, don't fidget, and if you see anythingthat so much as twitches, shoot until it's dead or you can't see it anymore.

But, then again, you might be tossed, never even coming close to serve your purpose. No one knew what happened to turrets that were tossed, just that it was very, very bad. There were thousands of turrets-if one was damaged or defective, it was easier to toss it than to make repairs.

But none of that mattered, not right now, except perhaps the defective thing.

Turret #3959568 was sure that she was in perfect working condition. All of her casing was in place. She couldn't tell if she had any bullets, though. Her appearance was consistent with that of everyone else in her (rather large, she was a turret after all) range of vision.

But what if they were _all _defective?

_Don't think of that, don't think of it…_

Being tossed terrified #3959568. It terrified every turret, probably. But there was nothing to be done about it, nothing until the tests to prove if you functioned or not. The line between assembly and testing was thin, so thin, so if you were missing something like bullets or eyes or limbs or something else, you wouldn't know this made you defective until it was too late.

No one really knew how long it was you spent on the large conveyer belt. Supposedly, it took you to the testing area, which was nothing more than a little room where you shot a target and a voice sensor to confirm that you were in perfect working order.

Nothing to worry about, nothing to worry about, #3959568 knew she would pass…

Well, not knew. Hoped. She would have prayed too if she knew anyone to pray to.

A sharp prod to her side snapped #3959568 out of her thoughts, and she was greeted with the face of another turret.

"Hey! Were you listening, squeaky voice? I was asking you a question."

"Um…sorry, I wasn't paying attention…" she replied, somewhat embarrassed. She needed to be more attentive! Otherwise, what if she missed a target?

A while passed where they said nothing. The other turret seemed content to remain like that, but #3959568 found herself growing uncomfortable, and continued.

"So…what was the question?"

"Hmm….can't remember," he said. The look she gave him apparently was so amusing that he burst out laughing. #3959568 glared at him, trying to look imposing and failing miserably.

That only made him laugh harder.

Whose bright idea was it to make turrets cute, anyway? It was nearly impossible to act dangerous, and especially not to another turret.

"Stop it!" she shouted, frustrated, and stamped her foot in what was supposed to be a second attempt at a threatening manner. It failed.

Soon, the other turret's laughter died down and was reduced to a grin.

"Heh heh, sorry for that, you just looked so funny that I couldn't resist. Name's #400138. Yours?" She continued to glare at him in silence for a few moments before finally responding.

"#3959568," was her curt response.

"Hey, are you still mad? 'Cause you shouldn't let things get to you like that. And now my question will never be answered…whatever it was. Something about bullets…Oh yeah! D'you have any you could spare?" #3959568 looked at him blankly.

"Don't you have your own?" she asked, mentally adding, _And_ _how do you even know if you have any or not?_

"…Don't know. My left arm's a bit lighter than my right, though, that's a pretty bad sign if you ask me." Bullets were generally stored in the left arm, since that was where they were fired from. It was indeed a very bad thing if it felt too light.

#3959568 rubbed her own left arm, glad that it was much heavy than her right.

#4001308 gave her an expectant look. When she did nothing, he continued,

"So, do ya have any bullets to spare or not?"

"I…can't do that. I don't how to reload or if…I…have enough for myself."

The only sounds were the humming of machinery and snatches of other turrets' conversations.

#3959568 didn't know what to say, other than a mumbled, "I'm sorry."

#4001308 just stared downwards, brows furrowed together. #3959568 reached out a hand at an attempt to comfort him, which was just swatted away.

"Hey, don't worry too much! Um…maybe you do have bullets, and they're just…light?"

That was a horrible choice of wording, even she knew that, but it seemed to amuse #4001308 a bit, perhaps at how silly she appeared for having said them.

"I'm going to see if I can make it to the back of the line, give myself some more time. You give 'em hell for me, okay? Show those new military androids who's boss." #3959568 nodded, and #4001308 waved and walked away.

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><p>#4001308 thought he was doing rather well for himself. He had managed to make his way to the beginning of the line, though other turrets did give him odd looks for that. No one said anything, though, for which he was grateful.<p>

Then #4001308 found himself grabbed and hauled off…somewhere.

His first instinct was to panic, to thrash around and get back in line, where some part of him nagged that he was _not _supposed to leave.

Then #4001308 realized that it was a human who had grabbed him, and he was being dragged up to the control room.

"Hey! Lady! This a jailbreak or what?" The strange human said nothing, so he tried again, wondering if her hearing was malfunctioning.

"Yeah! Let's do this!" The human said nothing, merely opened the door to the area where employees were supposed to monitor production (not any more, apparently).

Broken glass littered the floor. _Hey, how'd that get there?_

The human who was holding him was also holding a dual portal device-_How'd she get that?-_and shot a blue portal through a small broken window, an orange one on the wall beside them. Dragging him through it, #4001308 found himself staring at the template turret.

Wait, what was going on?

The human picked up the template turret with apparent ease, and dragged him through the portal and tossed him to the side. He immediately began shooting at nothing, unable to stop. Eventually, his gun somehow turned on himself, and, other than the proceedings of the machinery below, only a soft, "Critical error…" was heard.

The woman returned to the template area, and #4001308 found himself shoved into the area where the other turret had been, the scanner descending upon him.

"Hey, wait, I'm not defective!" But the scanner didn't find that odd at all, merely said,

"New template accepted."

It proceeded to scan the turret below, who said an incredibly high-pitched (no, really, how did some turrets get their voices that high? How?), "Hello," and proceeded to toss it, as it screamed, "I did everything you asked! I don't understand!"

Wait, what. _What. WHAT._

Another turret was coming, and the scanner descended once more. Realizing he was supposed to say something, #4001308 quickly gave a generic, "Hello."

It wasn't squeaky at all, though, which was supposed to be a problem.

The turret below seemed to be missing most of her casing, and shouted, "I'm not defective!"

The scanner accepted this, and she was taken away. "Do we…get bullets at some point? Are there bullets up there?"

The voice wasn't squeaky, like the others-it resembled his own. _And _she had asked about bullets. That meant another defective managed to avoid tossing.

"Heh..hehe…"

The next turret was apparently in perfect working order, but was still tossed. The same went for all the squeaky-voiced ones, all wondering why this was happening to _them, _they weren't defective!

It gave #4001308 some sort of sick pleasure, seeing them scream.

"Muahahahaha!"

Well, _this _was perfect. He wasn't out there, shooting intruders, but he wasn't dead, either, which was fantastic. _And _all the other turrets got tossed. _Couldn't spare any bullets? Pfft…you'll wish you had, you'll wish you had…_

The next turret on the line seemed to be the only one to notice that he wasn't the template turret.

"Hello," said #4001308.

"Hey, what are you doing up there, #4001308?" #3959568 asked. But the question quickly morphed into a scream as she was tossed into the…wherever…that..went. "I did everything you aaaaaassssked!"

He didn't quite know how to feel about that, so just "muahahaha!'d" weakly and went back to being a template.

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><p><strong>What.<strong>

**Okay, this did not turn out as was originally intended **_**at all**_**. I don't even know what this is anymore.  
><strong>**I am…not…sure if I like it or not.**

**Reviews would be highly appreciated. :)**


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